Page 30

CHAPTER 30

DALLAS

W ith my towel wrapped around my waist, I relax back onto the bed, propping myself up on the pillows, smirking at my phone as I wait for my girl to pick up the FaceTime request.

After dinner, we had a team meeting in the conference room at the hotel we’re staying at, and then I came up here and had a shower. When Robbie went into the bathroom after me, I not so subtly told him to take all the time in the world unless he wants to walk back out to me on the phone with my dick in my hand. So he took his phone in with him, then I heard the huge tub start to fill up.

“Hey!”

I feel my smile almost split my face in two at the sight of Emily filling my screen.

Like me, she’s in bed, wearing a light pink tank top. My eyes scan the angry looking scar there on her chest where her chemo line use to be, and with everything I have, I wish I could press my lips to it. A kiss isn’t going to make it better, but I just want her to know that she’s beautiful, scars and all.

As if she can feel my eyes on the scar, Emily rubs her fingers over it, almost as if she’s trying to hide it from me, and I hate that. But this is all a process. And instead of mentioning anything, I force my eyes back to hers with a grin. “Hey, Goldie.”

“Hey, you…” She looks a little closer, quirking a brow. “No shirt, huh?”

“No pants, either.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“Dallas,” she chides. “Don’t you share a room?”

“Yeah, but it’s just Mason,” I say nonchalantly, “and he’s in the bathroom.”

A comfortable silence settles between us, and I can tell exactly what she’s thinking as her cheeks flush a soft pink, her teeth clamping down on that plump bottom lip.

“I miss you, baby.”

She deadpans. “You literally saw me today.”

“I don’t know if you know this or not, Goldie…” I lower my voice to a whisper, pulling the phone even closer. “But I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

That flush blooms into a full-blown blush, and my grin turns smug because I did that to her.

“How was dinner?” Emily asks after a few moments, and I know what she’s trying to do. But not on my watch.

“We’re not FaceTiming to talk about my dinner, baby.”

She bites down on that bottom lip again, and I notice her chest hitch with a deep breath.

“What are you wearing with the cute little tank top?” I arch a brow.

With the slightest hesitation, I see her gaze flit to the side, probably checking her door is locked. And then she shifts against her pillows, getting comfortable, and my dick twitches with anticipation.

“I’m wearing matching shorts,” she says softly.

“Show me.”

Her eyes flare from the deep tone of my request, but she complies, flipping her camera to show her bent legs, and Fuck. Me. Shorts? More like panties. They sit low on her hips, showing off just a hint of her stomach, and they’re cut high in the leg, her delicious thighs on full display, just kissing at the very apex.

My dick springs to life, and instinctively I unravel the towel, leaving it covering just enough so that if Mason walks out of the bathroom unexpectedly, he won’t cop a total full frontal, but open enough for me to easily wrap my hand around the shaft and give myself a slow, firm stroke.

“Spread your legs.”

The camera flips again, and I’m met with an unimpressed look on Emily’s face. “Are you serious right now?”

This time, it’s me who flips my camera, giving her full view of my hand on my cock, gripping it tighter with each stroke. “Do I look serious?” I mutter through gritted teeth. “This is what you do to me, baby.”

Emily bites down on her lip again, seemingly entranced by the way I’m touching myself.

“You like that, huh?” I smirk as a low groan reverberates at the back of my throat. “You like seeing me stroke my cock. Wishing it was your hand… your pretty little mouth.”

I roll my palm over the head, collecting the precum, but it’s not enough. Removing my hand, I lift it to my mouth and spit on it, returning to my dick and stroking it hard.

“Oh, my God,” Emily says on a gasp so soft I almost miss it.

I pick up the pace, feeling that tinge at the base of my spine, my balls aching.

“Do that again.”

I look at her face. She can’t see me. Only my dick. But I can see her, and I can tell by the slight drop of her eyelids, the way her lips part just enough to make way for her quickening breaths, she’s into it.

“Do what, baby?” I rasp. “Remember, Goldie, use your words.”

“Spit. Again,” she almost pants. “I wanna see.”

I bite back my smirk, flipping the camera so I can meet her eyes, staring into her heady gaze as I lift my hand again and spit into my palm. Her mouth falls open, chest heaving with heavy breaths, and I flash her knowing wink, flipping the camera back around so she can watch live as I enclose around my cock again and start fucking my fist, the wetness of my saliva and my precum now amplified with every stroke.

“Why is that so hot…” Emily whispers under her breath, and I’m sure she isn’t expecting an answer, but I decide to give her one anyway.

“Because deep down, baby,” I manage through a grunt, “you’re secretly a dirty girl who likes it a little bit filthy.” I groan when my balls tighten, and I’m forced to squeeze the base because I don’t want to come right now. I want Emily to join in. “Are you wet, baby girl?”

I can see through the screen, Emily shifts, and when her eyelashes flutter, her eyes closing, I know she’s touching herself.

“Talk to me, Goldie,” I urge her, my tone a little warning. “Tell me everything.”

“Yes.” She sighs. “I’m so wet…”

“Fuuuuuck…” I whimper shamelessly, going back to stroking my dick. “I wish I was there. I’d bury my face between those perfect thighs and lap up every last drop.”

Emily stifles a moan, and my God she looks beautiful like this—eyes still closed, an adorable crease burrowing between her eyebrows, teeth digging into her bottom lip so hard it almost looks painful.

“What are you doing, baby?” I prompt her, knowing she’s probably never done this before. “Tell me what you’re doing. How do you feel?”

“I’m dragging my middle finger up and down my slit,” she says on a shuddered breath. “Teasing my clit and trailing it back down, circling my entrance and collecting more wetness.”

Chrissake, I was not expecting that detail but I’m fucking here for it.

“Good girl,” I drawl, knowing she loves the praise. “You’re doing so fucking good, baby. ”

She sucks in a gasp, and I’m forced to close my eyes tight, breathe a little slower, because between her words and those sounds, I am hanging on by a thread.

“I want you to take your middle finger, and slowly edge it into that tight little hole,” I say.

I’m met with a strangled moan, and I know she’s not only doing as I say, but she’s fucking loving it.

“Now, add your ring finger, and fuck that pretty cunt, Goldie. Imagine it’s me.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so wet, Dallas; it’s actually dribbling out of me.”

“I know, baby.” I grip the base of my cock again, my jaw clenching painfully. “You’re my perfect, messy girl.”

“I wish you were here,” Emily manages through a panting breath.

“Oh, yeah?” I start fucking my fist again with earnest, staring at her beautiful face all flushed, small wrinkles twisting her forehead as she closes in on her climax. “What would we be doing if I were there, Goldie?”

“You’d be fucking me with your fingers, sucking on my clit,” she moans, her head falling back against the pillow, the column of her throat begging for my lips. “You’d do that thing that you do, where you reach that spot… the spot no one has ever found before… and you’d rub it in that way that makes my stomach clench.”

“You want me to tell you how to reach it?” I croak. “Show you how to make that pretty pussy gush?”

“Ohmygod, yes…” Emily whimpers. “Please…”

I take a second to steel myself because the sound of her begging almost sends me over the edge.

“Slide those two fingers in at least a couple of inches until you feel a fleshy part that almost feels bumpy,” I instruct as best as I can when my balls are about to explode.

“I think… Oh, I feel it!” Emily gasps.

“Good girl. You found your G spot, Goldie.” I smile. “I want you to curl your fingers, but you’re gonna need your other hand for this. Can you place your phone on the nightstand so I can still watch you because fuck me, baby, this is the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

The screen flickers, but then it adjusts to the perfect view of Emily lying there against her pillows, chest heaving, tank top pulled up slightly to reveal her flat tummy constricting with her heavy breaths, hand buried beneath those tiny shorts.

“There’s my good girl.”

She turns her head, watching me on her screen as I continue stroking my dick.

“Now, with your other hand, I want you to press down, right over that smooth pussy mound, and with your curled fingers inside, I want you to do this—” I let go of my dick to show her with my own hand, curling my two middle fingers and pulsing them fast. “Tap them against your G spot, and don’t fucking stop. Even when it feels like it’s too much. Don’t. Stop. Put some pressure on it.”

“Oh,” Emily whimpers, her body convulsing, back arching up off the bed. “Shit, yes!”

“That’s it, baby. Keep going. You can even put pressure on your clit with your other hand.”

“Fuck!” Emily hisses, and she turns her head again, biting her pillow between her teeth in an attempt to muffle her own sounds.

“Look at you,” I groan. “You look so fucking hot, baby. Keep tapping that G-spot. Don’t fucking stop. Can you feel the pressure?”

“Mmhmm,” she nods, biting down on the pillow.

“Keep going, baby, you’re doing such a good job,” I hiss through my teeth, feeling my balls tighten, my release imminent. “You’re so fucking sexy, Goldie. I’m about to come just watching you.”

She moans again, and I see her thighs fall open even more .

“That’s it, be a good girl and make that pussy gush for me, baby.” I grunt. “I wanna see a fucking waterfall.”

She arches off the bed again, and when her mouth falls open on a silent cry, her stomach tensing, I know she’s there.

“Come for me, Goldie,” I utter. “You be a good girl and come for me right fucking now.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” she whimpers, sucking in a breath, and then suddenly I see her body convulse, legs quaking, knees shaking.

“I’m doing it!” She gasps, stifling her own groan. “Oh, I’m coming. Ohmyfuckinggod Dallas!”

My cock is harder than it’s ever been, and watching her fall over the edge while saying my name is all it takes. I grip my dick fiercely, pumping it once, twice, three times before coming with a low grown, shooting hot ropes of cum all over my hand, my thighs, my stomach in spurts that won’t let up, my orgasm relentless as it tears through me.

It takes a few moments for me to come to, collecting myself enough to realize where I am and what year it is. Grabbing the towel, I clean up my mess, glancing at the screen to see Emily. Her hair’s a mess, eyes dazed, lips swollen, and cheeks pink, the afterglow of her orgasm casting a halo around her.

When I remember she’s still looking at my deflating dick, I quickly flip the camera around so she can see my face, and she picks up her phone, bringing it closer, her lips curling up in a shy smile.

“You did so good, baby,” I rasp. “Did you make a mess like me?”

She nods, clamping down on her bottom lip to stifle her smile, and I groan at the image in my mind. But then she one ups me and flips her camera so I can see her bottom half again. She moves in closer, and when I see the soaked wet spot on her shorts that’s seeped onto her inner thighs, my dick jolts to life again .

“Holy shit, Goldie,” I utter, in awe of what I’m seeing. “Look at my perfect, messy girl.”

Her camera flips, and I see her smile as she contains a giggle that is music to my fucking ears.

“I need to go shower,” she says, adding quickly, “Again.”

I close my eyes, trying not to imagine her in the shower, soaping up that perfect body, rubbing her swollen, sensitive pussy, maybe even until she comes again. Man, I need to get a goddamn grip.

“Same.” I chuckle.

We lie there together, so close despite the thousand miles that separate us, and we’re silent, just staring at each other while basking in a post-orgasm bliss for at least a few minutes.

“I need to tell you something,” Emily says, breaking the silence.

I smile. “You can tell me anything, baby. You know that.”

She shuffles her body, sitting up a little in her bed, and I’m not sure why or how, but I can feel the energy shift, and it causes the hairs at the back of my neck to prickle.

“Andy invited me to his house for Shabbat dinner on Friday night,” she says quickly, as if saying the words are like ripping off a Band-Aid.

My brow furrows in confusion. “He did?”

She nods, and I can see her bite down on the inside of her cheek as she hesitates before forcing herself to speak again. “Simon is going to be there.”

Well, there goes my erection.

My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together as I process exactly what she’s telling me.

“I wanted to say no, but I got the feeling he was—” She shakes her head. “I feel like he knows something is up.”

I want to scream. Yell. Cuss. Because good. I want Andy to know. I’ll fucking call him right now and tell him over my dead body is my girl going to his Shabbat dinner without me by her damn side. Simon can fuck right off. She’s mine . But I know I can’t do that. I know I can’t tell Emily that. I’m also not a fucking caveman. So, at the risk of cracking a molar, I keep my mouth shut.

“I just wanted to be honest with you,” she continues.

“Wait…” I try to gauge her. “You’re going ?”

“I have to go, Dallas.”

I balk, anger getting the better of me. “Um… no you don’t. You work nine to five, baby. After hours, Andy can’t force you to do shit.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Dallas, he asked me if I have a boyfriend. Then he was making a point of me leaving the event early on Saturday night… he might not know this is happening—” She indicates the two of us. “But he knows something is up. I can tell.”

I swallow that lump that’s wedged itself at the back of my throat, a lump full of vitriol I know I can’t say at the risk of fucking everything up.

“I’m just going to go the dinner. I’ll be cordial. But that’s it. I’m not going to encourage anything. I’m not interested. I?—”

“You swear?”

Emily stares at me, just as shocked as I am by my own question.

I decide to double down because what’s the point in trying to pretend now. “You swear you’re not interested in him? A successful, age-appropriate doctor that Andy hasn’t made you sign a legal document stating that you won’t date?”

Emily continues staring at me for a long moment, her gaze flitting between mine. “Dallas, no. I’m not interested in him at all.” She shakes her head. “Remember earlier when I told you that I trust you?”

I nod.

“Well, you need to trust me too.”

“I do trust you, baby,” I say quickly, because it’s the truth. I trust her more than I trust anyone. And I’d like to hope she trusts me just as much .

A small smile ghosts her lips. “It’s just one night, Dallas. One night just to get Andy off my back, and then that’s it.”

I nod again. “Okay, I guess I can handle one night. But if he so much as even breathes on you the wrong way, I’m gonna show up on Andy’s doorstep with my goalie stick.”

Emily laughs, and the tension in my shoulders eases enough for us to end the call on a good note. But after saying goodbye, the doubt returns, and it’s even worse because without Emily on the phone to talk me off the ledge, all I keep thinking is what if she goes to dinner on Friday night and decides that I’m not the one for her.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door.

I startle, turning to the door of our hotel room. But then I realize the knock came from the door to the bathroom.

“Robbie?” I stand, holding the now sticky towel over my junk.

The door cracks open enough for me to see Robbie’s eyes.

“You fucking done or what?” Robbie mutters.

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Sorry, man.”

He looks down at me, brow quirking when he sees the towel covering my dick.

“I need another shower.”

He steps out of the way of the door, hands held up with a scoff. “I don’t know why you think I need to know that.”

I roll my eyes, stepping around him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. And as I rest back against the door with a resigned sigh, I can’t help but wonder if I’m on the verge of losing the woman I’m falling head over heels in love with before we even get a chance.